


Two Old Souls

by ProwlingThunder



Series: 100+ Words [38]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Cowboy Bebop (Anime)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Laundry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/ProwlingThunder
Summary: Kassandra's favorite laundromat was a coin-operated affair.
Series: 100+ Words [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/748548
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Two Old Souls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Omnibard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnibard/gifts), [Mandakatt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandakatt/gifts).



Kassandra's favorite laundromat was a coin-operated affair which had miraculously managed to remain in operation for the last hundred and some odd years, despite the war and the destruction of the _moon_ (the Hunters of Artemis, she thought, would be quite pissed) and the mass exodus to other planets in the far reaches of the solar system. And everything that happened on them, little of which meddled in the affairs of the tiny laundry she favored.

They sold her favorite brand of soap to her at the front, where a tired looking young lady waited for her nails to dry and operated the register for the miscellaneous goods. Sometimes, Kassandra sold them linen to earn back some of the money she spent here, but mostly she didn't. She wasn't entirely sure her coin hadn't kept them in business. Best not to ruin a good thing.

Like most days when she came here, the building was mostly empty. She remembered the older woman with the red flower in her hair was once a mother bringing her children, and before that a young bride, and before that a young girl herself, each always with the same bold mark, though her once dark hair had turned silver. Like everyone Kassandra saw for any real length, the woman had been born and grown old in her life, and she would not be the last. She had no intention of inflicting her circumstances on another.

There were others, of course. Two young men, barely teenagers, arguing over which brand of soap to use for what she presumed was their mother's washing, and a swollen woman sobbing next to a dryer, and another woman with a service dog at her side, leash in one hand and cane propped up against the machines. Nearer the corner Kassandra liked to haunt was a young man wearing genuinely nothing to preserve his modesty save a simple white pair of shorts, which, she would be the first to admit, did not hide _much_ and rather accented quite a bit.

The rest of his clothes, she supposed, must be in the wash.

She sat this week's basket on the table next to his and was rewarded with a flash of a smile. "Do you come here often?"

Oh, pretty and talkative. Kassandra made a show of taking in his appearance; muscled body, but thin, someone used to movement, but not someone who often fought with his form. Dark hair and paler skin, which could mean space travel or it could mean he was just from one of those climates, or that he didn't get out much, which was often the norm with people, these days. Two different colored eyes. In the past, they might have stoned him, or exalted him as the son of a god. Sometimes, both. "I might, if I had someone to meet me." She offered her hand to him. "I'm Kassandra."

"Spike," he grinned.

Neither of them offered a parental name. Kassandra didn't know which one she might have given him, if he had asked.


End file.
